


How To Hack A Hitter

by musingmidge77



Category: Leverage
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 20:05:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17086862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musingmidge77/pseuds/musingmidge77
Summary: The Carnival Job took a toll on the Leverage team, especially Eliot. His plans to go home and patch himself up are derailed as only Parker and Hardison can do. Eliot gets a little help from friends and Parker and Hardison see a different side of their hitter.





	How To Hack A Hitter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Soquilii9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soquilii9/gifts).



> I took the prompt "anything involving Eliot, Parker and Hardison is fair game. Just stick to canon (rather, something they are likely to do)" and ran with it. While this isn't a day at the brewpub I'm afraid the happenings herein are pretty normal in Eliot's life.

Eliot knew nurse Gail would have the desired effect on Parker and Hardison. All talk of hospitals ceased with one look at the tall blonde. 

He wrapped his arm around her waist. “This is nurse Gail.” 

They turned to leave. Eliot couldn’t stop the smile as Hardison said, “I don’t think she’s registered.” 

The street outside the pub grew quiet with the setting sun. Eliot’s hood served as a buffer between curious onlookers and his battered face. 

Gail kept a light touch against his sore ribs as she steadied him. “Are you sure you don’t need a hospital, Eliot?” 

“Just a ride home. I’ll be fine.” The cut at his brow split with his wink. “Thanks for saving me from them.” 

She shook her head. “The team is just worried about you. They care about you.” 

He suppressed the smile, but just barely. “They can’t mind their own business. I told them I was fine. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” 

“Sure you are, cowboy. Let’s get you home.”   
.   
.   
.   
Parker’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. There were too many rules to remember while driving. She tried to copy the nurse, who drove like everyone else. It was too slow and she had to keep the road, even though the sidewalk was empty in most places. 

“Nurse. Ha! I don’t think she was a nurse at all. She didn’t notice how hurt Eliot was.” She scrubbed her burning eyes with the back of her hand. “She should have checked him more. A good nurse would have.” 

The car eased to a stop at the curb in front of an apartment building and Parker stopped far enough away to watch undetected. 

The car pulled out before turning the corner and driving away. Eliot turned from the building and began limping down a side street. 

Parker’s head bobbed. “Didn’t think you’d lead her to your real place.” 

She cruised along behind him making sure to not arouse his suspicions. Never could be too careful with the hitter. 

His steps slowed as he continued, making it hard to remain inconspicuous in a car. Twice he leaned against door frames of empty store fronts, staying only long enough to rest himself, then trudged on. 

“Doesn’t need a hospital, pfft. Stubborn.” She parked the car after he stopped the first time and followed the rest of the way on foot. 

Four minutes later, Eliot stopped at a large metal door. 

She sidestepped behind some nearby bushes to watch. His fingers hovered over a keypad. 

“So, you gonna hide in the bushes all night or are ya coming in?” Exhaustion made his voice sound different. Less like the usual sandpaper and more like rocks in a dryer.   
.   
.   
.   
Parker appeared from the shadows. He couldn’t help but grin at her puzzled look. 

“How did you know I was there? I was careful.” A pout crossed her face, reminding him of an annoyed little sister. 

“I’m beat up. Not brain damaged.” 

The crease between her eyebrows deepened. Some unnamed twist in his gut caused him to add, “But you did a good job. Was hard to spot you. Much harder than-” 

She didn’t let him finish. “Russians?” 

“Um...yeah, Parker. Than Russians.” 

An excited bounce accompanied her few claps. “I’m better anyway. But tracking you is super hard. I did good?” 

Not willing to hurt her pride, Eliot agreed. “You did good.” 

A can rolled across the pavement in the distance and Eliot hid his eye roll. “You may as well come out too.” 

“Yeah. Come on, Hardison. He knew we were following him,” Parker’s annoyance dripped from the words. 

Hardison stepped out holding one of his tracking gizmos. “I stayed far enough behind you. How did you know?” 

Buttons depressed beneath his fingers. Not usually a man given over to fits of sentimentality, he punched in 1-2-0-7-2-0-0-8. The date he found a family again. 

Parker spoke up first. “I found your tracking thingy.” 

“And I saw her give you time to keep us in sight. She knows it makes you feel better.” 

“Found my tracker? It’s sown into the lining of your jacket. It’s tiny. No way you found my tracker. Huh uh. No, ma’am.” 

“My jacket is form fitting. I can’t get through ducts in bulky clothes. I felt it, silly.” Parker’s laugh-snort bloomed warmth in his chest. 

“Well fine.” Hardison flailed his arms. “Are we going in or are y’all gonna let us all freeze out here?” 

Eliot growled. “You can come in. But don’t be messing around my stuff.” 

Hardison rolled his eyes toward Parker. “Sure, man. We’ll try not to touch anything in your boring apartment. No TV. No video games. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” 

“Not a lot of temptation in there,” Parker agreed.   
.   
.   
.   
Eliot switched the lights on, bathing the apartment in a warm glow. Hardison let out a low whistle of appreciation. “Damn, Eliot. Nice place.” 

A heated glare thrown over his shoulder conveyed Eliot’s annoyance. “What? You think I live in a barn or something?” 

“We didn’t expect it to be so...nice,” Parker wandered into the living area. “All kinds of books.” 

“You guys think just because I’m the hitter I must live like a caveman?” 

“No, you got a state-of-the-art kitchen. Nice knife collection.” Hardison ran a finger over the handles of the knives hanging on the magnetic strip on the wall. 

“Don’t touch my knives. Those are the best money can buy. You’ll get them dirty. Don’t...I have them in a certain order.” 

“Is this the Wright Brother Patent?” Parker called from the living room. She picked up the frame and flipped it over to study the back. 

Eliot limped toward her. “Yes, it is. And don’t touch it.” 

“Like the Wright Brothers’ Patent? Seriously, this thing has been missing since 2003 when it was stolen from the National Archives.” 

Eliot pushed by Hardison and took the frame from Parker. “It was stolen in 2002. It wasn’t noticed until a year later that it was gone.” He placed the frame back on the shelf and adjusted it with a smile. 

“How do you know when it was actually stolen?” Parker asked. 

“Because I stole it.” Eliot met Hardison’s stare. “I can appreciate art.” He flicked his hand towards the patent. “Just look at it. It’s art and a historic event combined into one document.” 

While Eliot and Parker argued over the patent, Hardison wandered to the other side of the living room. He peeked inside the closet. “Is that a throwing knife holster? You got throwing knives? How cool is that?” 

“Cool!” Parker blew past Eliot and joined Hardison at the closet. “Look at that. They’re sharp too.”   
.   
.   
.   
“Very sharp. Put those down. I need those. You guys...I said not to touch anything.” He resolved to deny until his dying day that he ever sounded this exasperated.   
These people are going to kill me. “Leave my stuff alone.” 

He watched as they continued to ignore him and leave fingerprints on each item in the closet. Pressing his eyes closed, he knew what he was going to have to have to do. If anything would stop these two from prowling over every inch of his apartment, this would. 

“Guys.” The hacker and thief continued arguing. “Guys.” He exaggerated a sigh. 

Hardison and Parker turned toward him in unison. “Are you okay?” Hardison never could hide his concern. 

“You don’t look so good,” Parker’s gaze raked over his body. 

That could work to his advantage. “I just...I'm tired. I got hit by a carnival ride. In the face. And all this noise isn’t helping-” 

“I knew we should have taken you to the hospital. It isn’t too late. Lucille is just downstairs. Be there in no-” 

“No, Hardison. I don’t want to go to a hospital. I want to go to bed and get some rest. I want you two to stop trying to destroy my apartment while I clean up and change. Think you can handle that?” He paused in the hallway to deliver one of his scowls. 

“No problem,” Hardison smiled. “I’ll treat it like my own home.” 

Great. Probably try to make everything techy while I wash up. “Oh hell.” 

He shut the bathroom door behind him and closed the toilet lid with a thud giving him a much-needed place to sit. Damn, his bones ached. Getting too old for this. He let his head hang, chin to his chest, stretching his sore neck muscles. 

The part of his job he hid from the team had always been the toll it took on his body. 

Shrugging out of his battered hoodie, it dropped to the floor. “Shit.” Sometimes wearing layers could be annoying. Looking down at the button up shirt, long sleeve undershirt, and his busted left hand he decided now was one of those times. 

“Let me help you.” Parker’s voice startled him. He hoped she hadn't seen his flinch. The look in her eyes betrayed her calm and confirmed his suspicions. “Please, let me help.” 

The buttons of his shirt mocked the pain in his fingers. “I can manage,” he whispered. “You should keep Hardison from poking around. Besides, it ain’t right. It’s my job to take care of y’all.” 

Parker’s face screwed up in a frown. “But who takes care of you? Let me help this once. Okay?” 

“Okay, Parker.” His guilt at the thought of denying her and the pain coursing through his hand overrode his instinct. “Just this once.”   
.   
.   
.   
Hardison munched popcorn on the couch watching Netflix. According to Parker, she’d helped Eliot get out of his layers of shirts and got a hot shower running while he set up Eliot’s new entertainment system. 

Eliot shuffled into the room looking cleaner, but more tired than before. “What are you doing?” 

Hardison looked over with a proud smile. “Watching Supernatural.” He held up the bowl of popcorn. “Want some?” 

“Where did all this come from? I don’t even have a TV.” He eased down between them with a grunt. 

“I told you Lucille is parked just outside. I got a TV out of there. Hooked you up with Netflix. Look at that reception. I did that all just for you, my man.” He held up a fist for a fist bump. “C’mon!” 

Eliot glared at the him while Parker bandaged his left hand. Blood trickled from his knuckles as she worked. “I ain’t fist bumping you. I knew you’d do somethin’ like this. I don’t need a TV and Netflix. I have books. I can cook. Take care of my plants. I don’t have time for television.” 

Hardison let the grumpiness roll off him. May not have time for it, but you’re watching it now, ain’t ya? 

Eliot dozed during the show, waking up long enough to give Parker pointers on first aid and comment on how Dean would make a good soldier. 

Two hours into the marathon Eliot woke and lifted his head from Hardison’s shoulder. “How long I been asleep?” 

“Two hours,” Hardison responded without having to check the time. “Almost time to wake you up for a concussion check.” 

Eliot sighed. “Eliot Spencer. It’s either Friday night or early Saturday, and you’re holding up...three fingers?” 

Hardison grinned. “Close enough.” He reached for the bottle of water on the coffee table. “Here. Drink some water. Before you argue...no beer for you for a couple days.” 

Eliot sipped the water without arguing – Parker looked as surprised as he felt. 

“How did you get back in here with this stuff, Hardison? I set the alarm when we came in. And I know you didn’t hack it.” 

A giggle burst from Parker’s lips. “Tell him. It was really smart. He didn’t have to hack the alarm. Tell him.” The pride in her eyes for him made him beam. 

“Don’t always need gadgets to hack. I hacked your heart, big guy.” 

A look of horror flitted across Eliot’s face. “Hacked my...what kind of bullshit is that? Hacked my heart?” 

Hardison held his arms open. “Not bullshit. I feel you. It was the date of our first job as a team. Bring it in.” He waited for a hug with his arms open wide. 

“Forget it! I ain’t bringing it in. That’s ridiculous.” Anyone could see Eliot was exhausted even through the flustered arguing and mild head shaking. 

“Get some rest. We can talk about it later.” Parker giggled before her face settled into a serious look. “He’s tired and shouldn't be arguing. We’ll be right here. Keeping watch.” 

Hardison bit back a smile. Was she petting him? “Shh. Just sleep.” 

Instead of more arguing, Eliot’s eyes drifted closed and his breathing evened out as it did only in sleep. 

Hardison watched Parker as she watched Eliot. These two people came into his life when he needed a family. They all had come so far. 

The first job saw him threaten Eliot with a gun. Today he panicked when Eliot was knocked unconscious by that carnival ride. Eliot’s silence as he called to him was gonna haunt his nightmares, he was sure of it. One day he would tell the hitter how scared the silence had made him. But not today.


End file.
